


A Five Point Hurricane

by Floris_Oren



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: I shouldn't even be posting this as its own thing, M/M, Moving to Russia, Russian skating Fam, Some illusions to sex but I hope, Storm synonyms because reasons, They love each other, Viktor loves Yuuri, a very short fic, a weird poetic type of pov, but i am, it's the vague artsy kind, only happy endings for these two skating nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9254330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/pseuds/Floris_Oren
Summary: Yuuri gets used to Russia, the new skating fam and Viktor





	

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by something on tumblr I can't remember at the moment and this turns out weird but I went where my brain took me.

Yuuri doesn’t know what hits him; it’s like a maelstrom suddenly appeared and whisked him off into it’s windy embrace of hugs, kisses and other below the belt activities that still make Yuuri blush.  The blast of kisses on his face after he’s been out in the cold too long, long arms wrapping around him despite the wetness. Or the squall of hickies from below his collarbone to his stomach and elsewhere….

 

He weathers this five point hurricane with wide smiles, a few head shakes and hugs or kisses of his own. He likes to sneak up on Viktor when the other is asleep and take pictures for his own use. Sometimes they get posted online. He tries to keep them conservative, nothing suggestive. Their fans don’t need any more fodder. Pichit is always first to like them, and tease him. 

 

_ A long day of work, huh? Yuuuuurrrriiii?  _ He’ll type. Then hashtag everything and anything. Sometimes there’s a whole paragraph of hashtags and Yuuri has to wonder what’s the use of social media if you have to deal with posts with one or two paragraph of nonsense words and # signs all over the place. 

 

Then Viktor will wake up, looking perfect, take his phone and the storm comes upon him again and he can’t help go with it. He doesn’t want to run away or make it stop.He wants it. He waits for it and when it’s not there. When the sea of their feelings is calm - Yuuri stresses. It’s weird that Viktor helps him not to stress. Even when he’s being a demanding ass of a coach and Yuuri can’t land a Triple Quad whatever to save his life and he keeps wiping out. 

Sometimes on the third-hundredth time he’ll just lie on his back and stare up at the ceiling. He knows he’s being watched. He just can’t find the motivation to move. Then Viktor will skate over to him. Hold out his hand. Help him up. Smile and hug him close. He knows a lecture will just make Yuuri cry at that point. He knows that all Yuuri needs is a small, calm rainstorm. He’ll kiss him on the cheek and give him an exercise as a break. 

 

He won’t let Yuuri do any more jumps during practice either; he gets that look whenever he thinks Yuuri’s is going to do it and it takes a small hand wave and smile from Yuuri to reassure his coach that he isn’t going to jump. And he’ll go about his business with the assigned task. 

 

But, he may sneak one in when no one is looking. And if he buys some baked goods for the gang every other week, no one needs to know. What Yakov and Viktor don’t know won’t hurt them. 

 

Then there are the tornadoes he’s only ever heard about. Detroit wasn’t in the Tornado alley so they didn’t have to worry overly much about it, but some other American students talked about it. And honestly, Yuuri remembered feeling that way when Viktor swept into his life so suddenly that long ago march day, snow five feet deep, and Viktor standing in the onsen naked as the day he was born showing off his very nice family jewels. 

 

And Yuuri embarrassingly got a face full of that a few times after they moved to Russia. Viktor tasted something akin to pineapple and salt. Which wasn’t unwanted at all. Viktor wouldn’t push him though, he understood that this was something that Yuuri had to work himself up to on his own. 

 

In those cases the storm was a drizzle; pelting softly against the window and not daring anything more than that. In these moments, Yuuri took charge and kissed Viktor in the places he knew the Russian liked. High up on his neck below his ear. Not enough pressure to leave a mark. But in other places, maybe. While long, elegant fingers tickled Viktor and slowly brought him to completion and then some. Then they’d curl up and Viktor would hold him close and stroke raven black hair as they fell asleep. 

 

Sometimes, when Russia is asleep; when it’s deep night Viktor will work him open in ways Yuuri never knew he wanted, or needed. He’d slide in all the way, and draw all types of needy moans from him. Yuuri feels like a storm himself then. He feels like thunder and lightning from one second to another. And when they come together, their two separate, one tropical and one cold, onslaughts will become on major Hurricane. 

 

They blow down houses and trees and anything else in their way. Their culminating yells a mighty blast that decimates all and sunder. Then, the calm. The sea still strident with churned up water, the gulls come out from their hiding places to see what has washed ashore to eat. 

 

And they lay there, in the still of night, the sudden silence deafening. Viktor’s long arms anchor him to the docks and he sighs. Life in Russia is different, and new and wild. But, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if Yurio can be demanding at times, or Mila a bit too much of a tease, Georgi trying to give good romantic advice, Yakov look at him disgruntled that he’s taking up too much of Viktor’s precious time but sometimes there’s a smile and he’ll lecture Yuuri when Viktor can’t. And even when Viktor needs a tap to the head as a reminder because Yuuri’s put up with a lot of shit lately - thank you very much. 

 

Yes. Different. 

 

But good. 

 

No matter the storm. 

  
  
  



End file.
